


Missing Persons

by QuietlySomethingAlso



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlySomethingAlso/pseuds/QuietlySomethingAlso
Summary: Generations after Avatar Korra bridged the material and the spirit worlds, a new Avatar unleashed a spirit that wrought untold destruction and suffering. Scorned by the world, the new Avatar renounced the material world and gave up his bending for good. He was never seen again.It has been centuries since this event, dubbed the Cataclysm, but the Avatar is still gone from the world, and most believe the lineage to be over permanently. With the material and spirit worlds out of balance, and with a new crisis on the horizon that could threaten the existence of both, the few that still rely on old legends for hope need it now more than ever.





	1. Old Secrets

“We’re closed.”

The slam of a door was drowned out by late-night traffic on the city streets, backed up for two blocks behind a stadium downtown.

It was the door to the largest library in the area, nestled in-between two buildings in the heart of the city. And standing just outside, having had the door just slammed in her face, was a girl. Thin, and small for her age, with long, wiry brown hair that hung down over her bespectacled face. And not in a great mood.

Muttering under her breath, she raised a fist and pounded it firmly against the door – and to her surprise, it swung wide open again almost instantly.

The girl took a breath. “Sir, I just–”

“– _Closed_. Come back tomorrow. We open at 9.”

And just like that, the door slammed shut again, before she could get a single other word out.

A strand of hair fell down over her face, and she blew it out of the way with an exaggerated grimace. “…Jerk.”

The lights went out inside the building, and the shadow of the old man that had shut the door on her eventually disappeared from underneath the door. Behind her, traffic buzzed on, as it would for the rest of the night. Republic City never slept, after all.

She tried the door again – locked, obviously. Fortunately, she had been expecting that.

Hair swaying back and forth as she checked twice over her shoulder, the girl slipped down next to the library’s porch and into the alley beside it. Her soft shoes carried her silently through the dirt, and though she had to stand on her toes to reach the nearest window, she was just tall enough to force it open from the ground and climb inside.

One hand reached under her jade-colored robes for the pouch attached to her belt, and from it she drew a penlight, illuminating the otherwise pitch-black library with a narrow beam.

There was one book in particular she was searching for, and she’d written the name of it on the back of her hand to remember. _Cataclysm and the Reincarnation Cycle_. It was an old Republic City history book – not the kind of thing most people would read in their spare time. She found it nestled in the middle of a shelf next to a twelve-volume encyclopedia.

She sat down cross-legged with her back against the shelf, and the book dropped into her lap with a thud as she nestled her flashlight between her collar and her chin. The library itself was dead silent, but the honking of cars and city chatter still managed to penetrate the walls from outside.

With a deep breath, she opened the front cover and shone her light on the first page, skimming through it with anxious eyes.

_Water. Earth. Fire. Air._

_Long ago, the four nations_ –

“Nope.”

She skipped a hundred or so pages before looking again.

 _There remains much scholarly debate about how the Harmonic Convergence impacted local fauna_ –

“Nope…”

Clicking her tongue, she continued to flip through pages, and made it through about a third of the book before she settled on one that grabbed her attention: the beginning of a new section, illustrated with a massive full-body color photograph. A broad-shouldered, dark-skinned man in blue ceremonial robes, staring straight into the camera with an intense frown.

The photo had a brief caption in fine print:

_Matiq of the Northern Water Tribe is widely considered by historians to be last in the lineage of the Avatar._

He looked like an Avatar, too. Tall, muscular, and imposing, like someone that had more power than they knew what to do with.

She continued reading, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek.

_Avatar Matiq was widely known during his lifetime for fierce confrontations with human pilgrims to the spirit world that would frequently turn violent. It is said that the release of the demon Saigai from the spirit world occurred as a result of one of these confrontations: Matiq, prone to impulsive outbursts, awoke the demon in a fit of rage in order to retaliate against the unruly outsiders from Republic City._

_The Cataclysm is widely regarded as the world’s most devastating humanitarian crisis since the Hundred Year War, but unlike a military conquest with a transparent objective, its cause and its purpose remain obscure and have inspired libraries’ worth of scholarly debate. Who can be held accountable for the Cataclysm? It might seem easy to point to Matiq himself, or his bloodline, but many at the time rushed to the defense of the Avatar, citing poor training or a spiritual imbalance. Others still raised broader questions about the power left in the hands of individuals, challenging the common wisdom about the overall role of the Avatar in the affairs of the spirit_ –

“I told you we’re closed.”

“ _Aiee_!”

The lights in the room flipped on just in time to illuminate the girl’s embarrassing look of surprise, which faded as she slammed the book shut and stumbled to her feet. It was the old man that had shut the door in her face – a light sleeper, apparently.

Eyes wide, the girl gasped out, “H- how did you- I- I was-!”

“-A little too sure of yourself. But then I guess everyone is at your age, hm? You’re not as stealthy as you think you are.”

The old man pursed his lips, his long face scrunching up into a disapproving glare. He was tall and scraggly, with a long grey beard and spectacles that reminded her of at least three of her professors from school. Truly, he looked like he was born to work in a library.

“How did you know I would go to the trouble of sneaking in?” she asked sheepishly, avoiding looking him directly in the eye.

“Look at that pin.”

Her head snapped down to look herself over, fixating on the accessory on her chest.

“My pin…?”

“It’s from the Republic College. You’re a student. And you’re out past curfew.” The librarian stroked his beard with one hand, eyeing her up disapprovingly. “Now, I realize that to you, I probably seem like a doddering old man, but the truth is I was a college student myself once, not that long ago. And I know for a fact that there are exactly two reasons that a college student would be out wandering around town past curfew in the middle of the week: they’re out tearing up the town with their friends, or they’re out studying in a panic for their exams the next morning.” He shrugged theatrically with both hands. “I haven’t yet met the juvenile delinquent that would come to a library for fun- least of all in the middle of pro bending season- so that leaves option 2. And there are few things more frightening than the idea of flunking a class and having to take it over again. Most likely… frightening enough to drive one to, for instance, break into a library in the middle of the night.”

The girl scoffed at the accusation, as little an impact it seemed to have on the cynical old man. “I’ll have you know, I don’t have any exams until next week. …I don’t think.” She scrunched her nose as she thought about it.

“Sure you don’t.” He didn’t skip a beat, and without another word he marched forward to grab the book in her hands. As he got a look at the cover, though, he hesitated, mumbling, “…What class is this for…?”

She took the pause as a victory in its own right. “It’s not _for_ a class. That’s what I’m telling you.”

“Then what is it for?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Fair enough. You can hand that over, then.” He snatched the book away from her in a huff. “Make yourself scarce, and be grateful if I don’t tell anyone else you’re here.”

The old librarian’s footsteps echoed in the empty halls as he turned his back on her, but she didn’t move an inch, her fists tightening at her sides.

“Okay, okay!” She glowered as he turned around again. “Fine. Something happened.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and he scratched at his beard, turning just enough to encourage her to go on. Something about his expression had changed somehow, as though her words had genuinely caught his interest for the first time.

“There’s a prison,” the girl explained with a sigh, “that holds nonbending outlaws from the Badlands, way out in the outskirts of Earth Federation territory. It’s surrounded on all sides by a massive wall – ten feet of solid steel and concrete all the way around. Without bending, the place is almost completely inescapable. But this week, that’s just what happened.”

“An escape?” asked the old man seriously.

“They said it was a bombing. But it’s impossible… I’m sure that’s a cover for something.” She shook her head emphatically. “I saw the news reel myself. There was a fissure that opened up underground and tore the wall apart, like there was some kind of earthquake. And there were multiple blasts from inside the compound – inside the _cell_ , even.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So there was some kind of mistake. They imprisoned a bender. What’s so revolutionary about a little shifted earth?” There was something needling about his tone, like he was asking less because he disagreed with her and more because he wanted to goad her into explaining herself.

She was too caught up to notice it. “It _wasn’t_ just shifted earth. My father bends lightning; I would recognize that kind of electrical damage anywhere. So, how many earthbenders do you know that can do _that_?”

“Couldn’t it have been a coordinated escape? Multiple benders working together?”

“Not if the blasts all came from one place. They don’t hold multiple prisoners together. And only one cell was burst open.” She was getting herself a little worked up, and paused for a moment to take a breath, pressing two fingers to her temple. “Look. There’s something going on here. I’m sure of it. And I think it might have something to do with the Avatar. That’s why I want that book.”

They both went silent. Contemplating, the old man drummed his fingers against the book in his hand, studying her up and down.

“What’s your name?” he hummed.

“Lu Mei.” She stood up straight.

“You’re not a bender, are you, Lu Mei?”

“No.”

“What about your parents? What do they do for a living?”

They exchanged a brief glance, and she hesitated. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

The old man just nodded at that. The gears in his head were still turning, and he was more than comfortable to make her wait for him as he paced up and down the hall between the bookshelves.

Eventually, he stopped short once again to stand across from her. “Did you know that over sixty percent of the student body at the college can’t bend? _Sixty_ percent. Statistically speaking, there’s simply no way that could be a coincidence. And it’s been that way just about every year since the place opened.”

“I take it you have a theory as to why that is.”

He cracked a sudden, jarring smile, before nodding to affirm it. “I can’t bend either, but my parents were both venerated airbending Nomads. My ancestors were among the first airbenders that migrated to the Southern Air Temple after the Harmonic Convergence… or so my parents claimed. They had rather swelled heads about it,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “People like you and me? The action tends to leave us behind. Sitting in the sidelines. Especially when we are surrounded by impressive people. And so, we are left studying things as they happen. In my time, I’ve found that the truly inquisitive ones in the world…” –He adjusted his glasses thoughtfully– “…They tend to have a story similar to mine.”

Each of them peered at the other through their spectacles, Lu Mei now plenty suspicious herself as a result of the old man’s change in tone.

She crossed her arms, thinking it over before replying, “Well, I already told you, my father is a firebender. A police officer. He’s the captain of the eighth precinct here in the city. And my mom – she was a member of the metalbending unit. One of the best they ever had, according to the chief.”

“Sounds like quite a power couple.”

“You’re telling me.”

He scratched his beard again; apparently it was something of a tic. “…Forgive my saying, but I can’t help but notice that you said ‘was’…”

“Yeah.” She wasn’t shy about it, but she looked at the floor anyway. “My mother disappeared last year. She vanished into the spirit portal downtown and never returned, along with six other officers.” She sighed again, then craned her neck up to look him in the eye. “They’re not the only victims, either. Disappearances related to the spirit portal have only gotten more frequent since then. I can’t explain it, but I get the feeling something is wrong. Seriously wrong.”

And that was it. They had gotten to the bottom of it. For some reason, the librarian seemed extremely satisfied with her explanation.

He glanced down at the book in his hands with pursed lips. “That’s why you’re interested in the Avatar?”

“They’re the bridge between the two worlds, right? That’s the way it’s always been, historically. So if there’s anyone that can solve a problem with the spirit world, it’s the Avatar.”

“What are you planning to do? Whatever it is, it seems urgent.”

“I’m not planning to do _anything_!” Lu Mei scoffed, poorly concealing her surprise at being called out by making a theatrical, incredulous face. “I- what difference does it make to you, anyway?”

“Are you planning to investigate that prison in the Earth Federation?”

The confident declaration caught her totally off-guard, momentarily leaving her speechless.

“Well, I…” she trailed off. “I… how did you…?”

“That’s what I would be doing, if I were in your shoes.” He thrust the book back into her arms with an approving smile before she could react. “Here. Keep it. Knowledge is a valuable asset, especially on a journey.”

“You mean you’re not going to try to talk me out of it? Tell me it’s too dangerous, and all that?”

“Absolutely not. The world needs more driven young people if you ask me.” He straightened out his jacket firmly. “That said, you’re not going to want to go without help. No matter how driven you are, an ordinary teenager from Republic City is not going to get far without a plan.

“Well, do you have any better ideas?”

“Just one.” One hand was already reaching into his jacket. “Take this with you.”

From his front pocket, he drew a small piece of ceramic and placed it in Lu Mei’s hand. It was ornately decorated, with a white lotus flower emblazoned on the top.

She stared blankly at her open palm. “…It’s a board game tile.”

“Not just a board game tile – a _Pai Sho_ tile,” he corrected sternly, jabbing a finger in her direction. “And it’s more than _that_. It’s a symbol, for an organization with members all over the world, in every nation.”

She closed her fist over the tile. “…You’re talking about the Order of the White Lotus, aren’t you?”

“Mm.”

“But they were disbanded. Centuries ago, ever since Matiq disappeared…” She looked up slowly, only to find him making that cheeky grin again. “…You’re kidding me…!”

He met her eye seriously just to reassure her.

“If you’re going to head for the southern border of the United Republic, there’s someone you should meet,” the old man explained. “You’ll want to show them that, and tell them Grand Lotus Dailin sent you.”

Lu Mei adjusted her glasses with her free hand, opening the other again to examine the White Lotus token. Her thumb traced over it slowly as she spoke again. “You really think your people would be willing to help me with this?”

The Grand Lotus, completely self-assured, flashed a crooked smile as he watched her try to process it all. “There are more people like you than you think,” he chuckled. “… _Inquisitive_ people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A call to adventure!
> 
> I recognize that this rather huge fandom surely has a million and a half of this type of fic already, so I can only hope to bring something that isn’t too tired to the table.
> 
> The original concept for this fic came out of a conversation I had with a friend about how well a spaghetti Western would fit into the Avatar universe. So if that’s any indication of what could be coming... but, oops, no spoilers!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. The Stone Carver

A bus rumbled down an unpaved dirt road surrounded by dense forest, startling a half-asleep Lu Mei into peeling her face off of the window and looking around. She was in the middle of nowhere, alright, which was precisely her stop. One hand tugged on the pull cord while the other rubbed sleep out of her eyes.

A light turned on up front, but the driver ignored it, and so the bus continued to rumble on down the road. Lu Mei groaned under her breath and stood, throwing her bag over one shoulder.

“Excuse me?” she called out, marching toward the front of the bus. “I pulled the cord.”

Surprised to hear someone speak up, the driver turned around and raised a bushy eyebrow at her, asking, “What, you mean you did that on purpose? Are you sure you want to get out here? The road’s practically empty for miles. You’ll be stranded on foot.”

The bus rumbled to a stop even as he voiced his concerns.

“I’m sure. Thank you for the ride.” She paid her fare and stepped outside, flashing the bus driver a fleeting smile as the door closed behind her.

The wheels turned slowly as the bus pulled out, but eventually it revved up in the dirt and took off, leaving the small young woman alone in a thick cloud of dust.

She took a deep breath and adjusted the sash of her bag over one shoulder. Birds were chirping somewhere, and she took a minute just to look around, at the endless trees on either side of the dirt road. What the driver had said was absolutely true – there was no sign of civilization anywhere, not so much as a street sign. The quiet was a little eerie, especially for someone from the big city. Nevertheless, she puffed out her chest and pressed on, off the road and through a break in the trees.

The forest stretched out for three miles from the road, according to her directions, with no path and no major landmarks before a clearing broke out in the other direction. At any rate, it was enough to make her knees ache, and she spent the majority of the trip grumbling under her breath about the outdoors. But it was still nothing compared to what was coming – and she did not consider turning back, even for a second.

When the forest broke, there was a river waiting for her on the other side. Clear, blue rapids that stretched off as far as the eye could see in either direction, flowing downstream the opposite way the bus had taken her.

She knelt down and dabbed her face with water. It was nice to have a rest, but the old man’s directions were still at the top of her mind. She’d found the river… the rest of the hike was upstream. And so she carried on. For another mile, maybe even more. Her shoes were half-full with dirt by the time she was finished.

And yet, the mere sight of anything besides rocks and trees was enough to make her forget it all. There it was: an old, stone house, just a little too big to be a cabin, overlooking the river on one side. It couldn’t have been less exciting; an old family home in the furthest fringes of the tiniest Earth Federation province.  But it had what she needed.

She pulled up her bag over her shoulder and marched up the gravel path to the front door. There was a wooden sign out front, the text nearly faded:

_Avati Residence_

Lu Mei knocked with bated breath.

And knocked. And knocked.

…

…And eventually, footsteps echoed from inside.

“Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry; I never expect to…”

The woman on the other side of the door was already murmuring to herself before she opened it. When she did, her eyes opened with momentary surprise before lowering to find the short teenager that she was towering over. The pair sized each other up momentarily.

Lu Mei was kind of surprised – from the description, she hadn’t expected an old woman. Well, not _old_ , exactly- her long black hair, bunched into a ponytail, had only just started to gray at the roots, and her physique was anything but frail and decrepit. But she had eyes that had seen a thing or two – _that_ you could tell just from looking at her.

“Welcome! My name is Ilana.” The woman at the door folded her hands together for a formal bow, flashing a friendly smile. “I don’t get very many visitors out here. How can I help you?”

“My name is Lu Mei. I’m a traveler.” The shorter girl returned the bow with a polite smile. “I’m sorry for the imposition, but I’m running low on supplies, and I need to rest. I have money; I can pay you for the trouble.”

“Nonsense! I couldn’t possibly take your money. Come in, come in,” Ilana insisted, putting her hand on Lu Mei’s shoulder to usher her inside. “Turning away a stranger in need is about the most shameful thing someone can do. I am happy to help. And, besides, I don’t often get the opportunity to meet new people, so it’s kind of a win-win.”

Ilana shut the door behind her, taking a step ahead to lead Lu Mei through the small foyer and into a living room at the other end of the hall. In spite of the modest exterior, the inside of the place was stunning; the walls were covered in art and the floor in decorative furniture, and the whole space was wide-open and comfortable,  with a wall of glass on the side overlooking the river. Leagues more feng shui than a cramped dormitory in the city, at any rate.

Lu Mei stared at the river through the window, hands cupped behind her back. “It must get lonely, living all the way out here.”

“Sure, sometimes.” Ilana shrugged halfheartedly as she set up a second chair beside her glass table. “But it’s comfortable. I get to spend a lot of time in nature. I grow all my own food in the garden, and I draw my water from the river… it’s a tranquil way to live.” She crossed her arms with pursed lips, looking over her guest a second time. “Are you from Republic City?”

“I – er.” Lu Mei turned around hesitantly. “What makes you say that?”

“Your clothes. Looks like city fashion. You don’t really see any travelers from here in the Earth Federation wearing clothes like that, and that goes double for travelers from out in the Badlands. So my best guess would be the nearest city. That is, _Republic_ City.” She scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Although, those _are_ Earth colors.”

Lu Mei splayed her arms and looked down at her outfit, a dark green jacket and a pair of old, baggy trousers. “…To be honest, I bought these from a thrift store. So it’s not exactly current fashion. But, yeah… Republic City. I’m a student at the college there.”

“Well, who can keep up with fashion trends anyway? Seems like there’s a new look every month.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

Laughing warmly, Ilana waved a hand over the table to beckon Lu Mei over, and she courteously accepted, taking a seat at the table.

Still standing, Ilana asked, “Would you like some tea? It’s Jasmine; I’ve already got a pot on.”

“I’d love some. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Ah. You’re so well-mannered!”

“My parents were kind of strict. But it had its upsides.”

Lu Mei bowed her head politely as she said that, earning a smile from Ilana, who poured the girl a cup before preparing one for herself.

“So, if you’re from the United Republic,” she posited, handing the cup to Lu Mei with both hands, “then what are you doing all the way out here in Earth territory? Finding yourself in the wilderness?” She settled into her chair, setting the teapot in between them. “I’ve heard that Air Nomads sometimes go on long spiritual walkabouts while they are working to earn their tattoos. Being alone in nature can be a good way to connect with yourself, in a spiritual sense.”

Lu Mei considered that for a moment, taking a sip of her tea and smacking her lips. “Uh. Actually, I’m looking for someone.”

“Ah, a very practical reason then. Now, that’s a much more ‘Earth Federation’ response.” Ilana jokingly pounded her chest with one fist. “Well, if you’re looking for them all the way out here, either they must be horribly lost, or you must be.”

“Hm. I don’t think so.”

“Hm…”

That put an end to that line of conversation, and Lu Mei took the opportunity to look around the room while Ilana studied her guest. On the floor next to the mantelpiece stood an enormous white sculpture of a woman in a victorious pose – a piece of art that struck her as familiar, though she couldn’t exactly place it.

She tilted her head to the side as she admired it, murmuring, “What a beautiful statue…”

Her interest excited Ilana nearly enough to make her drop her cup. With wide eyes, she exclaimed, “Thank you! I made it myself. I only had old photographs as a reference, so it was a bit of a challenge.” She waved a hand in front of her. “Toph Beifong. The greatest earthbender who ever lived.”

Lu Mei nodded firmly- no wonder it had looked so familiar. “Yeah. There’s a big statue of her outside the police headquarters back home. She’s a legend in Republic City.”

“And everywhere else, too. I lived in Ba Sing Se for a long time, and trust me – you can’t open a history book without seeing a picture of her.” Ilana closed her eyes serenely. “It’s said that she had a profound wisdom beyond her years, even as a young child. She was resolute, calm, and peaceful, like a mountain. She spoke in proverbs, and she could end a fight with a single word, never having to move a muscle.”

“She sounds incredible,” Lu Mei replied quietly.

“She was. What I wouldn’t give to be able to have trained with her, even just for a day.” Arms crossed in front of her, she opened her eyes again, admiring her own handiwork sentimentally. “Do you ever feel like you were born in the wrong era?”

“All the time.”

The pair let out a long sigh in unison, each of them with their heads turned toward the statue.

Eventually, Lu Mei spoke up again, shaking her head a little and brushing hair out of her eyes. “So, did you chisel it by hand? That must have been hard work.”

Ilana turned politely to face her, and nodded patiently before responding. “Well, ‘chisel’ may be the wrong word. I crafted it out of marble using earthbending. You can call it a hobby of mine. I’ve made dozens of them over the years. When I lived in Ba Sing Se, I worked on a sculpture of the President that I believe is still standing in the capitol building to this day.”

“That’s amazing! I mean, I’m no earthbender, but if you ask me, that sounds like pretty hard work, too.”

“Not hard. It just requires patience, that’s all. Marble can be fragile for a mineral, so you have to be very precise. The slightest mistake can be irreparable.” She pointed a finger in the air to punctuate her point. “Earthbending sculpture is a practice that has been around for thousands of years – it’s something of a lost art. Forgive my saying, but there is a certain refinement that’s lost in the modern earthbending schools you’ll find in the big city. Sometimes the old ways are best.”

Something about that resonated with the young listener, and she contemplated it sincerely for a little while, sipping tea out of her cup with both hands. “…My mother was an earthbender, but I’m sorry to say that I never learned much about it from her. She would so seldom use it around me, and she always preferred to do work by hand around the house. Supposedly she was very talented, so I always assumed she was trying to teach me modesty or something.”

“Maybe she was. But restraint and caution are key traits of a disciplined earthbender. Earth is the most neutral element… applying it without purpose is an easy way to unbalance your chi, and a common mistake of untrained earthbenders.” Ilana cracked another sympathetic smile. “You say your mother was talented? Well, based on your description, I would certainly believe it.”

She said that with an earnest, tender sort of warmth that gave Lu Mei pause. The two of them drank their tea in silence for a little while as she pondered it, until eventually she settled on something else: a large, circular stone table, built straight into the floor and decorated with a colorful grid.

Sitting up straight, Lu Mei leaned over the side of her chair to get a better look, asking sharply, “Is that a Pai Sho table?”

Ilana widened her eyes. “You play Pai Sho? I guess I assumed kids these days had all lost interest in old games like this.”

“Pai Sho is more than just a game.” Lu Mei didn’t take her eyes off the game board as she said that.

The older woman froze for a second – something about the phrase threw her off. “…You’re absolutely right. I have always said as much.”

“Would you like to play?” Lu Mei still didn’t look up.

“I would love to,” Ilana replied firmly.

The two stood from the glass table to make their way across the length of the room. The Pai Sho table was positioned close to the window and away from any other furniture, giving a clear view of the river outside.

Ilana pulled out a cloth bag to retrieve the game tiles, but by the time she got it open, Lu Mei had already drawn her first piece from her jacket pocket, holding it between two fingers. “Mind if I go first?”

“Of course…”

The girl placed her palm dramatically on the board, removing it slowly to reveal her strategy – opening with a white lotus tile.

Ilana took even longer to respond to that one, glancing back and forth between Lu Mei and the board before murmuring, “Lotus gambit. What an interesting play. There aren’t many who still cling to the ancient ways.”

“Those who do can always find a friend.”

Obviously a little too proud of herself for saying that, Lu Mei folded her hands and opened them in front of her like a blooming flower, while the grizzled woman continued to study her with some suspicion.

Nevertheless, she took her turn and placed a tile in her corner of the board. Lu Mei responded with a piece on the exact opposite side. Within moments, the two had fallen into a pattern, placing parallel pieces all around the board with no regard for strategy. When they finished, the arrangement of the pieces had taken on a very specific shape – a lotus flower, of course.

“Interesting.” Ilana folded her hands in front of her on the board, still not sure what to make of things. “Why would an elephant koi circle its own lake?”

“Only to… eh… only because… I…” Despite a very earnest effort, Lu Mei gave up trying to answer, instead letting out a loud groan and slumping back in her seat. “I’m sorry. I… uh… don’t really know all the secret codes or anything yet. _Technically_ … I’m not really an initiate. …Yet.” She blinked twice.

Ilana sighed under her breath, disappointed but not surprised. “You _did_ seem a little young to be a White Lotus…”

“But I picked up a few pointers. You’re supposed to be the greatest earthbender west of the Badlands. That’s what Grand Lotus Dialin told me.”

“Dialin? Oh, that old windbag… that explains a lot.”

“He was very insistent I meet with you. He told me to show you this.”

Shuffling forward in her seat again, Lu Mei leaned forward to reach for her white lotus tile in the center of the board, palming it and displaying it for Ilana to examine.

“That’s _his_?” she exclaimed, with earnest surprise. “This must be very important, then. What is it that you came all the way out here for?”

Lu Mei didn’t hesitate. “I’m trying to track down the Avatar.”

That was the right thing to say, apparently. And it was followed by a weighty silence.

Then, without any warning, Ilana stood up sharply from her chair, ordering, “Get out of your seat, and stand back.”

As Lu Mei shuffled obediently backward, Ilana took a deep breath and cupped her hands, gently closing her eyes for a few moments. Then, with no warning, she opened them sharply again and separated her hands in a tight gesture, closing two fists and holding them at her waist. One foot slid back against the ground, and instantly the granite Pai Sho table split itself clean down the middle, the two halves separating from each other to create a gap in the middle of the room. As the dust cleared, Ilana thrust both hands downward, and the slick stone floor obediently collapsed, shaking the entire room as the descending floor formed a rigid staircase beneath her.

She brushed herself off with a quiet huff. “Come on.”

Lu Mei’s mouth hung open. “You have a _secret basement_? This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The steps led into a small and dusty room made entirely of stone, nearly pitch-black until Ilana hit a light switch and the old electric lights flickered on several seconds later.

“Whoa…”

Lu Mei had little else to say as she looked around. It was nothing like the cozy interior of the house above. One wall was adorned with a shelf covered in old and important-looking artifacts. The other, a rack of weapons – staffs, a spear, a pair of swords that looked like they had seen some use. And on the wall across from the stairs, a massive blue banner, decorated with the symbol of the Order of the White Lotus.

As Lu Mei looked around, Ilana brushed straight past her to head for the shelf, pulling a wooden box off the end and peering inside with her tongue in her cheek. “So, tell me, what’s the plan, Lu Mei? Surely you have a lead, or you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Lu Mei spun all the way around to face her. “I _do_ have one. It’s… it’s called the Iron Shoulder. A fortress built out of a hill, with a wall around the whole perimeter.”

“I’ve heard of it.” Ilana looked up momentarily. “It’s a high-security Badlands prison. It’s a long way from here.”

“Yes. It’s in undisputed Earth Federation territory. It’s all run by the state; that’s why it’s so well-fortified.”

“And what does it have to do with the Avatar?”

There was something about Ilana’s question that felt particularly important to Lu Mei – she had taken on a very similar tone to Dialin, if admittedly still a little bit softer.

She explained, in turn, with as much confidence as she could muster. “It’s an escape they had last week. Their story doesn’t add up. I looked at the footage myself. I’m confident there’s something going on there. It should have been impossible unless one person was bending more than one element from inside their cell at the compound.”

The pair looked each other in the eye for a moment.

“Well… I’ll be honest,” Ilana said with a shrug, turning back to return the wooden box in her arms to the shelf. “I’ve been disappointed before by claims with stronger evidence than that. But if Dialin thinks it sounds promising, then it’s at least worth looking into. I trust his judgement.” She nodded once as if to affirm it to herself. As she did, she dug her hand into the box on the shelf and drew another lotus tile, apparently an important one like Dialin’s. “So, then. If he was a refugee in the Badlands, I suppose that would make our suspect an Earth Federation Avatar.”

“Well, that fits, doesn’t it?” Lu Mei asked. “The Avatar Cycle is water, earth, fire, air. Matiq was Water Tribe. So that means the next Avatar should be from the Earth Federation.”

Ilana bit her lip, closing her fingers over the tile in her hand. “You have to understand, the White Lotus has been searching virtually nonstop for the Avatar ever since he disappeared. Yes, Matiq was Water Tribe, but he lived over two hundred years ago. We have no idea how long he lived _or_ who succeeded him, if, in fact, anyone did. For all we know, if some of them died young, there could have been a dozen Avatars since then. We could be anywhere in the Avatar cycle, and we have no way of knowing. Which means the next Avatar could honestly be anyone.”

“But doesn’t that just make it all the more important that we investigate?” Lu Mei was as earnest as ever.

“It certainly does. The only problem is, they’re never going to let us get anywhere near a place like this prison of yours. We’d be turned away long before we could approach the gate. Especially if you think they’re trying to cover up the escape.”

“Well… I kinda thought that was why Dialin directed me to you. Because… I mean, can’t you just…” – she waved her arms frantically in front of her – “…you know, like, earthbend us in there somehow? Tunnel through the walls or something? It can’t be that hard, can it?”

“Busting down walls in a federal prison doesn’t sound like a very constructive plan to me.”

Excitement quashed, Lu Mei’s face sank for a moment, eyes drooping toward the floor.

“Then… what?” she asked loudly. “We can’t just throw up our hands and call it a dead end.”

“I didn’t say that we should.” Ilana raised a finger in the air as she made the correction. “I think the reason Dialin sent you to me is because he knows I have the right connections to investigate this. If it’s a Badlands prison, we’re going to need someone with experience in the Badlands. And I know someone that fits that description.” She clicked her tongue, rolling the Lotus tile between her fingers with uncertainty. “He won’t be too thrilled to hear from me, admittedly, but he _is_ one of us. He’s the person to talk to about this.” She paced absentmindedly around the room as she thought about it.

Lu Mei looked back over her shoulder, doing a half spin to keep a bead on her. “This friend of yours… he’s in the White Lotus, too?”

“I didn’t say ‘friend’,” Ilana muttered, stopping in her tracks in the center of the room. “But, yes. At least, he used to be. He’ll help us.”

“Then that’s what we need to do next. Where do we find this guy?”

“That’s the catch. We’re going to need to enter the Badlands to find him. And that’s a lot easier said than done. We need to be prepared for a difficult trip.” Folding her hands behind her back, Ilana approached the weapon rack, scanning the selection. “Which of these can you fight best with?”

“Uh… I’ve never _been_ in a fight. I’m a student. From the city. Remember?” Lu Mei leaned in toward the spear for a moment, studying her own reflection on the steel. “Although, my dad’s a cop. I may have picked up a firebending move or two from watching him in action.” She flipped around suddenly, throwing out a punch in front of her with a confident grin.

“Oh, you’re a firebender?”

Her smile deflated instantly at the question. “Well, no, not a _firebender_ , per se…”

“Then what _are_ you?”

The pair exchanged a glance.

“…Plucky?” suggested Lu Mei with an awkward grin.

“Right…” Ilana, unimpressed, brushed right past her again to march over to the other end of the rack, raising one hand to brush some of the larger weapons aside. Somewhere hidden behind the larger weapons was a small, ornate-looking dagger with a pearl handle, which Ilana brandished at her side before flipping it over in her hand and presenting the handle for her new companion to grab. “Take this.”

Lu Mei grabbed it with one hand, and her attention was immediately caught by the engraving on the blade itself. Holding it up to her face, she read the inscription aloud: “‘Never give up without a fight.’”

“That was a personal gift I received when I lived in Ba Sing Se,” Ilana explained. “It’s very old, and very precious, so please don’t lose it.”

“Then why entrust it to me?”

“Because it’s the thing in my armory you’re the least likely to accidentally kill yourself trying to wield.” She rested a hand on Lu Mei’s wrist to get her to lower the knife. “Pull it out if you need to defend yourself, but that’s a last resort. Try to stay behind me, okay? If anything happens, you can trust that I will protect you.”

“Fine, fine, you go ahead all you like. I trust you,” said Lu Mei with a wave of her hand. “But… I mean, how much trouble do you really think we’ll run into? How bad could it be?”

“Just take it from me. I’m speaking from experience, here.” Ilana rubbed her face tiredly with one hand her voice starting to sound almost gravelly. “When you’re searching for the Avatar… trouble finds you.”


	3. A Fistful of Yuans

The land once known as the Earth Kingdom was the largest territory on Earth, encompassing over half of all inhabited land on the planet. In the wake of a terrible war, the last king the monarchy would ever see relinquished an entire province of territory for the establishment of a new, unified society, a fifth nation that would recognize all people. But four and a half centuries later, the Earth Federation would lose its land again, a loss greater than any the world had ever seen, to the Cataclysm that rained fire on the world. And what was left was no nation at all.

When the smoke cleared, the ash-covered remains of Earth Federation land stretched across nearly half the continent. The outer edges extended from the western coast, covered plains, a desert, and a mountain range. They reached all the way to the Eastern Sea. They encompassed the old spirit tree at the center of the world. All of it, turned to dust. Dust, and dirt, and grey crags, and dry shrubs. These were the Badlands, where only the most desperate survivors – the people with absolutely nowhere else to go – would ever live again.

There were plenty of those people to go around, and many of them from all over the world eventually found themselves wandering there, looking for food and shelter, safe passage, or, more often than not, just a place to escape from the authorities. In time, the Badlands became a little civilization all of their own, spotted with little towns and hideouts and populated by people with ancestors from every nation. On paper, the land still belonged to the Earth Federation. But out there, it was every man for himself, and everybody knew it – on both sides of the border.

One of these Badlands settlements was particularly well-known: a frontier town called Zaofu. Two enormous, rusted metal plates, relics from a much older settlement, served as the gate to two long rows of wooden shacks. It was more businesses than homes: a general store, a post office, a tailor, and most importantly, a tavern, which was the center of most activity in town. One particularly important afternoon found it as busy as ever, with most every stool and table occupied.

There was a table in the back of the room, far away from the bar and a distance from any other tables, which nobody paid much mind to. At it sat five strangers, tough-looking old men with no common interests except the game of cards they were playing. They were mostly petty criminals and lowlifes, all dressed in heavy clothing and ten-gallon hats. The dealer of the round was called Sugar, a thin, shady type with a pencil moustache.

The man in the back was something else. His back faced the wall, and the brim of his hat cast a shadow over his face, so all anyone could see of him was his scruffy brown facial hair. He’d introduced himself as ‘Pigeontoe’, and that was all any of the rest of them knew.

“Betting five hundred,” Sugar declared boldly, sliding a handful of chips into the center of the table.

The players around him glanced at their cards uncertainly.

“I’m out,” said the player to his left.

“Me, too,” said the one after.

All eyes turned to the mysterious man in the back, and he didn’t blink, sliding his own chips in to match Sugar’s bet.

Apparently inspired by his confidence, the player to his left followed suit. “I’ll call it, too.”

Sugar gritted his teeth as he turned over a card in the center of the table. He didn’t even check his cards again before grumbling, “Raising two hundred,” and pushing in more chips.

Again, Pigeontoe didn’t hesitate, anteing up with question. Apparently his confidence was only so infectious, though, because the player to his left folded immediately afterward.

Sugar was left with only one opponent that he just couldn’t shake, and he was wearing his frustration on his face as he turned over the next card. “…What’s your game, eh, Mr. Quiet?”

The game ground to a halt as everyone waited for Pigeontoe’s response, expecting a confrontation.

Instead, he just shrugged, pushing up on the wide brim of his hat with his index finger. “I’m playing Five Point Cross. I don’t know about you.”

“Alright, wise guy.” Sugar rolled his eyes, pushing in another pile of chips with his palm. “I raise five hundred.”

A mildly-amused grin was barely visible underneath the brim of Pigeontoe’s hat as he matched the bet.

“You kidding me? You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Sugar scoffed, slapping the two cards in his hand face-down on the table.

Fuming, he turned over one last card and immediately shot a glance at his opponent. “Okay. I raise two thousand.”

Pigeontoe shook his head. And then he pushed in another stack of chips.

Sugar nearly burst a blood vessel at that.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough of this guy.” The whole table shook as Sugar pounded a fist on it, sending a tower of chips spilling out over the rest of the pile. “I know this guy’s type. The leather boots. The swagger. The… admittedly handsome and well-groomed sideburns.” He blinked twice during the proceeding awkward silence. “…He thinks he can just walk all over us.”

A nearly inaudible sigh escaped from Pigeontoe’s lips. “I do something to offend you, Sugar, or have you just never lost a game of cards before?”

“You know what–?”

“What?” Pigeontoe was as cool as ever, only serving to frustrate the red-faced Sugar even more.

“Bah.”

There was nothing else to say. Sugar flipped over the cards in his hand.

“Alright, tough guy. Five. And five. And a king kicker.” He slid the cards in his hand toward the center of the table toward the center to compare them to the community cards, already prepared to take the pot for himself with an admittedly strong hand.

Still, Pigeontoe did not so much as bat an eyelash. “Five. Five. Five. Five.” Pigeontoe laid out his cards in front of him one-by-one. “I win, Sugar.”

The three other players at the table let out a loud chuckle at the twist, but Sugar continued to pound on the table even as Pigeontoe leaned forward to rake in his newly-won chips.

“He’s palming them. He’s palming them!” Sugar cried out uselessly, jabbing an accusatory finger across the table. “Cheat! Roll up your sleeves; let me–!”

The accused was happy to oblige. His sleeves were, of course, empty, to Sugar’s chagrin.

“That’s it! How did you–?”

“I liked my hand,” Pigeontoe replied with a shrug. “And I called your bluff.”

Sugar breathed smoke. Literally, as the smoke that fumed out of his nostrils was intermingling with the smoke that trailed up from his fist, which he had ignited in flame out of anger. As everyone else backed off at the threat, Pigeontoe’s hand flew to his belt, throwing back his long overcoat to reveal a holstered revolver underneath.

“Figures,” Sugar hissed. “He brought a weapon. Rules said no weapons at the table. I knew you were a miserable cheat. Planning to cut and run the second things go south.” The table charred as he pressed his burning hand into its edge.

“Buddy, you shoot fire out of your hands. There a way for you not to bring _that_ to the table? Because if not, this ain’t cheating. It’s evening the odds.” He clutched tightly at the grip of his revolver, his eyes narrowed like disapproving parent’s. “Now, put that fire out and sit down. I’m not gonna tell you twice.”

“Yeah? You’re not gonna tell me twice?” spat Sugar. “You know something, ‘Pigeontoe’? You’re just a man. I’m not afraid of you. And I’m not afraid of your sideburns.”

Without another word, he thrust his arm out to grab the end of the table, flipping it out of the way and sending cards and money flying. With the space between them now open, Sugar began marching forward, punching a fiery fist into his palm and burning it twice as hot in the process.

Pigeontoe walked slowly backward as the two of them moved toward the center of the tavern, pushing up the brim of his hat again. “Don’t start picking fights in a place like this. Nobody did anything to deserve you lighting fires.”

“Bite me.”

Moving with all the grace of a charging bull goat, Sugar lunged forward and threw out his fist, firing a powerful blast of flame in a straight line in front of him.

Pigeontoe easily sidestepped it. A hole blew open in the wall of the tavern, igniting the edge of the nearest curtain. The room had erupted with commotion by then, and most of the patrons of the tavern were in the process of clearing out, but Pigeontoe straightened out and stood his ground, stone-faced. The two men squared off again on opposite ends of the room.

Sugar clenched his fist even tighter. “Fancy feet.”

With his teeth gritted, he threw out a second punch, and then a third, firing off equally large blasts of flame that traveled the length of the room and blew out two more holes in the far wall. But his opponent was observant and exceptionally quick, and for each projectile that came his way, he had already positioned his feet just far enough to slide out of the way. Sugar thrust out an open palm, and Pigeontoe turned his whole body to the side, allowing a narrow streak of flame to brush straight by him. Sugar leapt into the air and threw out a roundhouse kick, and Pigeontoe ducked forward, clutching his hat to his head as an arc of flame passed harmlessly over him.

Feet skidding on the floor as he landed, Sugar braced both fists at his sides and sucked in his breath, then thrust out both fists together in front of him. The resulting wave of fire was so dense that he couldn’t see anything else in front of his face, but he fired it anyway, spreading an intense heat to every corner of the tavern.

The smoke cleared, and Pigeontoe was still standing there, albeit ten feet to the right of where he was standing before. “You got that out of your system?” He patted out the cinders on the edge of his overcoat, the only part of him that had even been touched.

Sugar narrowed his eyes. “Almost.”

He raised a fist –

– and a bullet ripped through it, ricocheting off the back wall with a sharp _twang_.

“ _Agh_ -!” he cried out suddenly, the flame in his wounded hand flickering weakly as he pulled it into his chest. He wrapped one hand around the other, and blood trickled out from between his fingertips, staining the front of his shirt and dripping onto the wood plank under his feet.

His eyes narrowed seriously, Pigeontoe lowered his gun back down to his waist with the barrel still smoking, watching intently for any more sudden moves. “Now, Sugar, I have been very patient with you. All these fine people that you are putting in danger have been very patient with you. But I am not going to stand here all day playing games with you. So let me say this once, and only once.” His wrist, still dangling near his belt, craned upward to point the barrel of his revolver threateningly in Sugar’s direction. “Put that fire out.”

The flame extinguished immediately.

“Good choice,” he grumbled. Then he tucked the gun away again.

Almost everyone was gone from the room, but the three other men from the card table had stuck around, all of them visibly pleased to see Sugar humbled. Pigeontoe rejoined them in the back of the room, lifting up the table that Sugar had thrown aside and setting the cards and chips in a large pile on top of it.

“Gentlemen, there is really no way we all walk away satisfied after a game that ends like that, but here’s my proposition.” From the pile on the table, Pigeontoe pulled the stacks of money that each men had bought in with, laying them all out in a row in front of him. “The pot is twenty thousand yuans, four thousand each. Now, we can all take back our original buy-in, walk away with our four thousand, call the game a draw. And the remaining four thousand – Sugar’s four thousand – I will take that and deliver it personally to the owner of this fine establishment for the trouble we’ve caused. Then we can all go our separate ways, and with any luck, we’ll all still be welcome to play here again. Does everyone find that agreeable?”

The men shrugged at each other.

“Yeah.”

“Fair enough.”

“Sounds good.”

“Hey, now; what about–?” Sugar’s footsteps creaked on the wood floor as he approached, but he backed off after a single glare from the man that had just beaten him. “…Okay, man, okay…”

“Does everyone besides Sugar find that agreeable?” Pigeontoe repeated.

The man in question shrunk from the table. Everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Then we’re done here,” he declared, pushing the stacks of money to each of the three men and tucking his own into his back pocket. “Good game, gentlemen. Next time, I’ll make sure things go more smoothly.”

And just like that, the group parted ways. The three strangers disappeared from the tavern, Sugar shrunk into the corner with embarrassment, and Pigeontoe marched straight up to the middle-aged bartender behind the counter, laying down the last stack of money for her to take.

“Rules _do_ say you aren’t supposed to bring weapons in here,” she grumbled, lowering her eyes at Pigeontoe disapprovingly.

He frowned. “Only for personal protection. I’m sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused, ma’am.”

“Troublemakers come in here all the time. Honestly, it don’t make no difference to me, so long as you’re payin’ for it.”

Pigeontoe looked back over his shoulder, scratching the back of his neck as he surveyed the substantial damage Sugar had caused.

“Do you have a radio?” He turned back to her, folding his hands on the counter.

She nodded once.

“Tell you what. This is four thousand. I can radio one of my boys, and he’ll be down in a few days. He’s real handy; he’ll fix everything up for half of that. And the rest, you just keep for the trouble we’ve caused you.”

She hesitated, but eyeing his face up for a moment and deeming him sincere, she shrugged, gesturing toward the staircase at the other side of the room. “Upstairs. Second door on the right.”

“Understood.”

With a click of his tongue, Pigeontoe stood from his stool and tipped his hat to the lady, leaving the stack of money behind on the counter for her to take as he went upstairs.

Following her directions, he found his way to the bedroom above the tavern, small and modestly furnished with a bed, table and cabinet, and little else. But there was a radio, sure enough. Without telephone lines in town, it was one of the only ways to get a message out for miles.

His heavy boots made for loud footsteps, but as he approached the bedside table, a sound made him freeze anyway. One floorboard creaked at the wrong time. The subtlest thing in the world.

In the blink of an eye, Pigeontoe had whirled around and drawn his weapon, leveling it squarely at the door. “Sugar, how many times do I have to tell you–?”

His eyes went wide, and he pointed the revolver at the ceiling, taken aback. It wasn’t the man he had expected – it wasn’t a man at all. And it certainly wasn’t a stranger.

Ilana looked exactly as he remembered, though he didn’t recognize the much younger girl at her side. She didn’t flinch for a second despite having a gun pointed at her, nor would he ever have expected her to. For as calm and reserved as she usually was, he knew much better than to underestimate her.

She spoke before he ever got a chance to. “Put that thing away, Li. You’re going to hurt somebody.”

“I don’t go by Li.” His hand wavered for just a second, and then he pulled his arm back, spinning his revolver back into its holster with a flourish.

“Well, you had better believe I’m not calling you ‘Pigeontoe’,” Ilana retorted with a warm smile. “That was quite a stunt you pulled. We came in at the tail end of the fight; I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that it was you.”

“What’re you doing here? Who’s the girl?”

“Her name is Lu Mei. She’s with me.” Ilana rested a hand gently on the teenager’s shoulder for a moment, but she never took her eyes off of him. “Dialin sent her.”

“She’s a White Lotus?” he replied, raising an eyebrow in the girl’s direction for a moment.

Ilana hesitated. “She’s on our side.”

“Now, who says we’re on the same side?”

He silenced her momentarily with that, and returned to fiddling with the radio in the meantime.

Now irritated, Ilana crossed her arms over her chest and took a step in front of Lu Mei, declaring matter-of-factly, “We’re looking for the Avatar, Li.”

He just scoffed under his breath without turning around. “Try an air temple.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. You came a mighty long way, considering you knew you’d be wasting your time.”

He finally stood up straight and turned to face her again, and the pair stared each other down, each with a deadly-serious frown and a spark in their eye.

A few feet back, Lu Mei poked her index fingers together and forced a grin. “Well, this is fun, huh, guys…? Nothing like catching up with old friends…”

Neither of the two adults acknowledged her in the slightest.

“Hear me out. There was an escape at the Iron Shoulder,” said Ilana. “Damage to the foundation like from earthbending. Electrical damage like from firebending. The story the prison officials put out is a cover. We need to investigate it ourselves.”

“Iron Shoulder? That’s an Earth Federation prison. Those are _your_ people, not mine. What do you need me for?”

“You know full well those are _not_ my people. But you put half of those prisoners in there singlehandedly. The warden there owes you a favor. Probably twenty favors.”

It was a fair point – he scratched his beard thoughtfully before answering, “…Okay. Maybe. But that doesn’t change anything. I don’t owe _you_ a thing. The answer is no.”

Ilana groaned audibly.

“Li. When you left, you said you weren’t interested in chasing after a pipe dream. You said you wanted to do something good for the world. Now I come to you with a lead – after everything that happened between us, I still come to _you_ , with a _real_ lead, and you want to pass that up?”

“Not exactly the first time you thought you had a ‘real lead’.”

“It’s not just me. Like I said, Dialin is the one that sent the girl. He’s the one that thought this was worth investigating. He left her with his own Lotus tile.”

“Dialin is old and desperate, just like you are.”

“I think you both look really good for your age,” mumbled Lu Mei hopefully.

Ilana was frowning sentimentally now, even pityingly. “I know you’re stubborn. But you’ve never been _hopeless_.”

He refused to look at her.

“I’m not hopeless. I’m busy,” he grumbled.

“Busy? Is that so? Doing what, playing cards with criminals?”

The sudden sharp tone put him on the offensive. “Now, _that’s_ rich. Coming from the hermit content to shack up in the middle of the woods drinking tea all day.”

Her face sagged. She looked at the floor. “I don’t have any people left.”

“You don’t have any people left… tsch. …Well, you know something, Ilana? I _do_ have people. And they’re out there, every day, keeping folks safe. Keeping folks from going hungry.” He pointed a finger toward the window, to the rest of the Badlands stretching endlessly outside. “That’s what _I’ve_ been doing with my life, while you’ve been sitting around waiting for an Avatar to fall into your lap and solve all your problems. Consider this: the last Avatar is the reason the world is so screwed up in the first place. Maybe it’s time you got on board with the rest of the world and stopped expecting a miracle.”

He said it with an air of finality, putting an abrupt end to the debate. The two ladies turned to look at each other rather than look at him any longer.

Lu Mei leaned over to the side as she whispered: “You said this guy was a White Lotus…”

The older woman shook her head. “I said he _used_ to be.”

“It’s just a title. Doesn’t mean a thing anymore.” Pigeontoe turned his gaze from Lu Mei to Ilana as he continued. “Call me hopeless all you like. I know better than to get involved in a wild tiger goose chase around the Badlands. And with a kid? Come on, Ilana; what is she, sixteen? What you’re talking about is dangerous.”

The teenager’s eyes shot wide open at the comment. “I’m eighteen!” she protested. “And I can take care of myself.”

“Well, that’s a relief, because here I thought you were saying you needed my help.” Pigeontoe rolled his eyes. Lu Mei had no retort. And, so, he turned back around at last, returning to his business with the radio. “If you’re heading out, talk to Sen at the stables. He can get you both a ride.”

* * *

Hours later, very little had changed in the tavern at Zaofu. There were still a few holes in the wall near the entrance. Scorch marks on the floor. Someone had apparently run a broom through to brush away the rubble, but that was all. So, naturally, the afternoon saw very little business.

With nowhere else to go, Pigeontoe stuck around anyway, parking himself at the counter with a drink in his hand. And he was mostly ignored. Mostly.

“Hey there, big man. How ‘bout that weather today, huh?”

A much scrawnier, thinner man slumped into the nearest barstool. Pigeontoe barely looked at him, but his voice was plenty recognizable on its own – Sugar.

“…It’s hot,” Pigeontoe grunted.

“Isn’t it always? Oh, isn’t it always…?” With a hum, Sugar reached for his own glass and wrapped his recently-bandaged fingers around it, only to wince with pain immediately afterward. “Ow. Ow.”

“Let it rest,” sighed Pigeontoe. “It’ll be fine.”

“S’alright. Not my first time being shot, heh…”

“That ain’t surprising.”

The two drank in silence for a few minutes. Pigeontoe was a quiet sort, of course, but the long pause obviously made Sugar uncomfortable, and he shifted around restlessly on his bar stool until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Scratching his chin, he nudged Pigeontoe with his shoulder, mumbling, “…So, uh… I couldn’t help but overhear…”

“Overhear? Overhear what?”

“Well, I was just wandering around upstairs, y’know, looking for the bathroom…”

“You were eavesdropping on me?” Pigeontoe looked Sugar in the eye for the first time, agitated.

“Now, hold on – hold _on_ , ace!” the shorter man said with a nervous chuckle, throwing up both hands. “You’re going to want to hear this…”

Pigeontoe glared at him. “I’m listening.”

“You were talking about the Iron Shoulder, right? About the breakout that happened there not too long ago?”

“…That’s right.”

“Well, as it happens, I have some insider information regarding that incident. Couple of my boys out in the east were locked up in the Iron Shoulder; they escaped that day.”

The coy little attempt to build suspense did not manage to do anything but irritate Pigeontoe, who was making it pretty clear from the scowl on his face. “What do you know, Sugar…?”

Sugar cracked a weaselly grin. “What’s it worth to ya?”

He barely got the words out before Pigeontoe had a fist around his collar, slamming him hard enough against the nearest wall to send splinters flying out.

“Ah- _agh_! Geez, Pigeontoe, did you wake up on the wrong side of the–?”

“You are testing my patience here.”

“Okay! Okay! Geez!” Sugar whined. “According to my boys, that story they put out about a bombing at the prison was bogus. That prisoner – there was something special about him.”

“Special?”

“That’s right. Like he had some kinda special powers. Real old-school, mystical-type powers. Now, I know the couple of hopefuls you were with were talking about the Avatar, but those of us who know better got a different theory. The _spirit child_.”

Pigeontoe was taken aback. “What in the world is a ‘spirit child’?”

“You never heard the ghost stories? The spirit child. Old frontier legend. Orphan boy raised by the dark spirits a thousand years ago. He’s got a guardian angel watching over him. I know those walls didn’t break themselves down. So I’m thinking… the spirits must have saved him. It’s no bomb. That kid was the spirit child, I’m telling you–”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Shut it.” Pigeontoe was stricken by something, and ran through Sugar’s rant in his head a second time just to be sure of it. “A kid? Are you saying the prisoner that escaped was a _kid_? How old was he?”

“Ah, I dunno! Twelve, thirteen? A – I mean, he was a kid! That’s all I know, honest!”

“They were keeping a _kid_ locked up in the Iron Shoulder…?”

“That’s right. The way I hear it, they picked him up out of one of those roaming gangs outside of Weisho.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

His fist opened up to release Sugar, who slid down the wall before staggering onto his feet again. “Nah. It’s true. You know how those Earth Federation types are. They got no patience for our kind out here. No matter how young.”

He took a deep breath and straightened himself out, brushing his jacket with both hands, and prepared to say something else. But Pigeontoe had already moved on, returning to the counter to pay for his drink and continue his march toward the exit of the tavern.

“Huh? What is it?” Sugar asked energetically, following after him with his fists clenched. “You’re afraid of the spirit child, too, aren’t you? You know I’m right!”

Pigeontoe stopped suddenly, and Sugar rammed into him from behind, though he didn’t budge an inch.

Lowering the brim of his hat over his eyes, Pigeontoe turned around and leaned in close. “…You show your face in here again, I’ll find you.”

And then he turned around again, the edges of his long overcoat brushing against both sides of the door frame as he disappeared through it.

Sugar stumbled to a stop in the doorway as he chased after him. “Hey! Is that a threat? Is that a threat, big man? You think you’re so tough, why don’t you come back here and prove–?” He clenched his wounded fist to shake it after Pigeontoe, and winced yet again, putting an abrupt stop to his blustering. “…Oww…”

* * *

A drop of sweat fell from Lu Mei’s forehead onto the front of her glasses. With a pout, she removed them, wiping it off with the sleeve of her jacket. “If we have to walk all the way to the Iron Shoulder, I’m going to die of heat stroke.”

Ilana shook her head disapprovingly at the proposition “It’s too far to walk. We couldn’t possibly make the trip on foot. We need some kind of transportation.”

The small stable the pair had stopped at on their way out of town was packed with ostrich horses, but Sen, the stout, mustachioed man in charge of it, was firm in his refusal to lend them a single one.

Bowing politely, Ilana turned toward him once more, cupping her hands at her chest. “Please, sir. I’m sympathetic to the fact that this puts you in a difficult position, but we desperately need your help.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Sen hesitated. “Er, ma’ams. But these animals are all reserved for others. I can’t give them out without permission. No matter how badly you need them.”

“Surely you can do _something_.”

He just threw up his hands in response, earning simultaneous groans from the two women.

“What if we just bribe him?” proposed Lu Mei, her tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek.

“Lu Mei!”

“What? I’m trying to come up with solutions here.”

“…I’m listening,” said Sen with a grin, before Ilana looked daggers at him.

“We don’t even have any money to bribe him with,” Ilana explained impatiently. “Our money is for essentials. Not that I condone bribery.”

“This seems pretty essential to me!” Lu Mei countered.

“So is _food_.”

“What if we just ride it while we need it, and then eat it when we get there? Two birds with one stone.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say! And also… not a good plan.”

“Yeah… I know.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh, her arms sinking to her feet. With nowhere else to go, the pair seemed to be stranded in town, given that neither was too keen to give up and turn back the way they came.

They didn’t wait for too long – a pair of heavy boots stomped through the entrance and caught both of their attention minutes later. But their owner didn’t address either of them right away.

“It’s alright, Sen.” Pigeontoe looked straight at the stable owner with a mild frown. “Help the ladies out; give ‘em a couple of mine. And put up a saddle for me, too.”

“Pigeontoe!” Sen looked back and forth at the women before glancing ahead at the man in question. “You… sure? You aren’t usually the type to trust these outsiders.”

“We can trust them.”

“If you say so…”

Without another word, Pigeontoe made his way onward to the nearest three stalls, leading out an ostrich horse for each of the two ladies before claiming the last one for himself. All three bystanders watched with disbelief.

He returned to Ilana first, but hesitated for a second before handing off the reins to her ostrich horse. “Don’t think this makes us a team,” he said sternly, looking her in the eye. “I got my own reasons for coming along. You find what you’re looking for, we can go our separate ways. But you promise me this: if this ‘Avatar’ isn’t the person you think they are, they are going back with me. That clear?”

Ilana took a deep breath and grabbed the reins with one hand. “…You got it, Li.”

She followed him out of the stable, and Lu Mei scurried awkwardly behind, yanking her ostrich horse along at her side. She was much shorter than either of her older companions, and despite her enthusiasm it took her several tries to actually position herself on top of the saddle. Pigeontoe and Ilana exchanged an exhausted glance.

“Wait… how do I hold these?” Lu Mei shuffled from side to side in her seat, passing the reins back and forth between her two hands. “Like this? Er, like this?”

Pigeontoe just stared.

Then he turned to Ilana. “Where did you find her, exactly?”

“She found _me_.” Ilana scratched the back of her neck, hesitant. “But… she’s from the city.”

The blatant irritation on his face was the most expression Lu Mei had ever seen from him. “I’m already regretting this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering the world of Avatar has its own fictional version of Go in the form of Pai Sho, I figured it ought to have its own version of Texas hold'em, too. Hence, Five Point Cross was born. I’m not sure exactly how it’s played, but I think it is fair to say that you can always expect to lose it to the quiet, mysterious guy in a cowboy hat at the end of the table.  
> Thanks again to everyone for reading!


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